Sloth In The Night

One thing I noticed about sleeping in the San Jose metro area the other night, was the lack of night noises. It felt eerily silent not having the crickets to sing me to sleep. Well, last night was another night of noise in our Monteverde house. The wind has been howling for two days now and has caused a few roof panels to loosen and bang and creek. Heavy mist is pelting the windows, drip and drain sounds surround us and blowing leaves scratch at the windows.

It was about 1 AM and the rattling just would not stop. Mice found the cat food? The cat trying to get a stuck cup off of its head? This new sound need investigating, so up I sprang peering into the kitchen. Nothing. The sound was outside our dining room window. Something was clanging: the hammock? The cat trying to get in? I shined the flashlight at the window and saw two giant claws attached to a long haired limb. I new what it was. Another limb with a set of claws reached up and scratched at the window and wooden frame. Really? This isn't supposed to climb houses! Attempting to gain height, this slow moving creature's head popped up revealing its flat nose and little innocent eyes. Yes, it is a sloth! I turned the light on, put my boots on and grabbed the camera as it retreated under the bench.

After a minute of hiding under the bench, it reached out with one limb, then another and another and slowly dragged itself across the concrete patio. I snapped pictures from a few feet away. Sloths do not move rapidly, but I certainly did not want to get close to its huge daggers. Not able to support its body weight by pushing up, the shy creature looked sickly or at least from another world. Sloths have plenty of strength to hang and to pull themselves up, but apparently do not practice pushups or run from predators. It crawled to the nearest tree and methodically climbed up until its was out of my reach within a couple of minutes.

In this morning's light, the sloth is nowhere to be found. We will go outside in a few minutes to look up into the trees nearby.

Signed M.

Walk to the Guindon Farm

On Sunday, we ventured out for a walk to the Guindon Farm to watch the milking of the goats and cows. Wolf and Lucky Guindon were part of the first group of Quakers that came to Costa RIca in 1951. They raised seven children here and the family has been and still is a keystone to the development and life here in Monteverde. Benito, their youngest son, has always had a passion for animals and now takes care of the farm making sure the animals are attended to twice a day. Benito is easy going and always welcoming of visitors, so we arranged to meet him for the 4:30 milking.

Along the two kilometer walk to the farm we stopped to talk with Miguel (on the motorcycle) and to say hello to the man on the horse. The boys found some vines on which to climb and strangler fig trees to look at in awe. We crossed a footbridge, passed a field with a colt and mother and finally came to the long(kilometer) driveway up to the Guindon house. As we gained in elevation, we found a view down into the valley and overlooking the Bay of Nicoya. The plant life was thriving and thick. Apparently, more rain falls here than at our house.

The first building at the top of the hill is the old Guindon house, now empty except for a few million termites and surely a snake or two. We are greeted by a handful of barking, yet friendly dogs wanting a sniff of fresh 4 year olds. Wolf and Benito soon arrived and it was time to empty some udders. We followed Bennie to the milk room as watched him rinse and prepare the stainless still milk cans. Out we went as he opened a gate and allowed the goats to walk the ramp up to their feeding and milking platform. Michael asks, "Why do you tie the goats?" "So they don't ram their horns into another one's butt!" Benito replies laughing, but completely serious. Michael laughs, "That's funny!" The goats are focused on eating their molasses sweetened while Benito does the milking. I would guess that the seven or so goat yielded about two liters of milk, or about 1/2 gallon. The largest amount was given by a goat that just gave birth 10 days ago while the others yielded little because they are pregnant. I thought about how much work went into the 1/2 gallon of goat's milk I bought from him that morning for two dollars. He let the boys feel warmth of the bucket before taking it to the milk cans. We waited while he called the five cows in from the pasture and started milking them -all by hand, no fancy machinery on this farm.

The sunset was beautiful and darkness was creeping over us and it was difficult to pull the boys away. Michael and John were naturally thrilled by the animals and wanted to see the chickens, ducks and rabbits. This will have to wait for another day explained mom and dad as we were eager to begin the hike back home. I was familiar with a trail through a forest and pasture that would lead us to the road. Darkness was settling in and the boys and I talked about how our night vision really improves when we don't use flashlights. Reaching the pasture, we were pelted by wind driven mist while dodging rather large cow pies. Almost to the road, I heard a strange noise behind me and John. We quickly turned to see a colt running and crossing our path just a few feet behind us. It let out some gas and galloped away. Interesting, I thought, glad it didn't strike us.

The boys were troopers and walked home the full distance in the dark of night on a slippery muddy road while being refreshed by wind driven mist.